The Grass That Grows
by madurai
Summary: COMPLETE. One family deals with the aftermath of the War. Post DH, AU.
1. Andromeda

The Grass That Grows (Aftermath) post DH, slightly AU

_If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended,_

_That you have but slumber'd here While these visions did appear._

_And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream,_

_Gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend._

William Shakespeare, _A Midsummer Night's Dream_

May 4 1998, two days after the battle.

The bright spring sun nearly blinding her, Andromeda Tonks apparated to just outside the gate of the Weasley home. It was a beautiful day, a warm breeze whispering through fresh green leaves and the scent of apple blossoms on the air. Andromeda sighed. It was a day that seemed entirely inappropriate for a wake, particularly the wake of one so young.

As she joined the long line of mourners making its way towards the door of the Burrow, Andromeda noticed a small group of brightly dressed witches and wizards in one corner of the garden. The group huddled together drinking bottles of Butterbeer and chatting with an affability that seemed out of place amidst the somberly dressed crowd. With a pang, she remembered Nymphadora's bright pink hair at Albus Dumbledore's funeral not a year earlier. At the time she had been more than a bit annoyed with her daughter's lack of decorum, appearing at the funeral of the world's greatest wizard sporting pink hair. Now, as she watched these young people hover protectively around a lost-looking young man who must be George Weasley, Andromeda thought she understood the impulse. It must be impossible to be so young, so full of life and hope, and yet have to face the uncompromising horrors of war.

Andromeda paused for a moment, blinking as she passed into the dim interior of the Burrow. Arthur Weasley stood just inside the living room, greeting the guests with his eldest son–Bill, was it?–at his side. She remembered Arthur as a jovial man, bright eyed and impossibly energetic at times. Now he seemed to have aged ten years, at least, his shoulders slumped and deep lines of grief etched into his face.   "Arthur, I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Andromeda, thank you for coming." Arthur's reply was warm and sincere as he took her hand. "And I wanted to say how sorry we all were to hear about Ted. He was a fine man, and he will be missed."

Andromeda felt her composure slip, the pain catching her unawares. Ted had died in the middle of the war, when most of the people they knew were either in hiding or laying low trying to avoid the notice of the Death Eaters. There was no time for a wake, no opportunity for her grief to be shared by anyone but her own, broken little family.

"Thank you," she managed past the sudden constriction in her throat. "Where is Molly? I wanted to—"

"She's in the kitchen, checking on the food." Arthur looked a bit uncomfortable. "Would you mind looking in on her, Andromeda? She's hardly had a moment's rest, taking care of all of us, bustling about getting ready for the wake. I'm afraid she's...well, she's not really... that is, she's keeping so busy so that she won't have to think..." his voice cracked as he looked away.

"I'll just go in and see if she needs a hand, then," Andromeda replied, her control restored. "You take care of yourself, Arthur." She clasped his hand warmly and nodded to Bill before moving towards to the kitchen.

Andromeda hesitated at the entrance to the kitchen. There were some conversations for which even a proper Black upbringing did not prepare one. Molly had been two years ahead of her at Hogwarts. The age difference coupled with the centuries-old antagonism between Slytherin and Gryffindor meant that they had never been close. Other than exchanging an occasional hello while shopping at Diagon Alley, she hadn't spoken to Molly since Nymphadora had been at school with Charlie Weasley.   What do you say to a woman you barely know who has just lost a child?

Still, Gryffindors did not have a monopoly on courage, despite their own posturing to the contrary. _'A tendency towards needless self-sacrifice coupled with a stubborn disregard for common sense, perhaps' _she mused, thinking of her son-in-law. A sudden crash from the kitchen startled her out of her reverie and propelled her through the door.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Molly Weasley exclaimed as she looked down at a puddle of soup and broken crockery on the floor.

With a practiced flick of her wand and a muttered _evanesco_ followed by a quick _reparo_, Andromeda cleared up the remains of the soup and repaired the tureen. Molly stared for a moment, as if not really understanding what she was seeing, then began bustling about the kitchen again, not meeting Andromeda's eye.

"Don't mind me, I'm just making sure there's enough food for everyone... so many people have come... I don't know where we'll put everyone; it's not like the wedding when we had so much time to prepare... I'm sure we won't have enough sandwiches..."

Andromeda interrupted Molly's rambling, "Now, Molly, what can I do to help? Let me take that." Relieving Molly of her tray of sandwiches, which probably held enough to feed twice the number of people at the Burrow, she added, "You sit down, dear. I know my way around a kitchen well enough to be of some service here."

"Oh, yes, of course, thank you, Andromeda.," Molly answered vaguely, still not looking at her.

Andromeda set the tray on the counter and placed the kettle on the stove. Molly sat at the table, staring out into space and wringing her hands.

"I'm sorry!" she suddenly cried out.

"What?"

"I'm sorry," Molly repeated.

Andromeda was mystified. "What in Merlin's name for?"

"For Bellatrix. I killed your sister," she added softly. Molly was now looking at her, grief and guilt etched in equal measures on her face.

Numbly, Andromeda sat down at the table next to Molly, wondering what she could say that would even begin to untangle the complex emotions that overwhelmed her whenever she thought about Bellatrix. She stared out of the window, remembering.

"I had a sister once. She would bring me flowers in the spring and ask me to braid them into her hair. She crept into my room in the winter months, and we would burrow under the quilts together to keep warm.

"That sister died a long time ago, Molly."

Andromeda clasped Molly's hand where it lay on the table, noticing at once how cold and frail it felt. She remembered those first few weeks after Ted's death, and how she didn't think she would ever feel warm again.

"Bellatrix Lestrange tried to destroy my family. My daughter. The man whom I've come to think of as a son. My grandson." Her voice broke as she found herself overwhelmed by how much more she might have lost. With how much the woman before her had lost. "You did the world a favor, Molly. You did what was necessary."

Molly sobbed once, then nodded gratefully. Andromeda patted her hand and then stood to make the tea. "Go in and join your family, Molly. They need you now, and you need them. I can handle things in here."

"Thank you, Andromeda."

It was rather late when Andromeda returned to the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Poppy Pomfrey started up out of the chair where she had been dozing and, seeing who it was, simply waived her towards the small private room at the end of the ward. With the restrictions against werewolves still in place, it was impractical for Remus to be moved to St. Mungo's. Dora was curled asleep next to him in his hospital bed, one arm draped over the edge where Teddy slept in a bassinet. Andromeda brushed the hair back from her daughter's bandaged forehead, silently kissed her good night, then turned to make her way home.


	2. Nymphadora

May 11, 1998, 9 days after the battle

Nymphadora Tonks Lupin grimaced as her mother tried once more to 'talk some sense' into her daughter and son-in-law. "Are you sure you want to go out tonight? Remus, you're still recovering from the full moon, not to mention your injuries. Can't this meeting wait a few more days?"

"The Order needs to debrief Harry, Ron and Hermione," Remus explained patiently, "And Hermione wants to leave as soon as possible to try and find her parents. Besides, I'm fine, Andromeda. I slept all day and your shepherd's pie did wonders."

"Not to mention that bar of Honeydukes I left by the beside," smirked Dora.

"At least let me keep Teddy for you," Andromeda insisted.

"Mum, we've told you already. Teddy will sleep right through the meeting. Besides, Fleur wants to meet him." The truth was that neither of them were quite ready to be separated from their son after the events of the previous week. Dora reminded herself once again that much of her mother's anxiety had the same origin and tried to match her husband's patient tone. She slung the bright pink nappy bag over her shoulder and reached for Teddy.

"Dora, dear, your hands are full. Why don't you let Remus carry the baby," suggested Andromeda fretfully.

Dora rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to drop him, Mum." But she didn't object as

Remus carefully lifted their son and held him securely against his chest.

Andromeda picked up a baby blanket and draped it over Teddy's head. "Here, put this over him to keep the off the soot." Remus adjusted the blanket so that Teddy was completely covered and stepped towards the fireplace.

"Don't worry, Mum, we won't be late." Dora grabbed a pinch of floo powder from the jar on the mantel, pitched it into the flames and called out "Shell Cottage."

-------

The surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix crowded around the small kitchen of Fleur and Bill Weasley's cottage. Harry, Ron and Hermione commanded one end of the table, whilst other Order members took a seat where they could or simply stood against the wall. Dora found herself sitting at the table, squeezed in between Remus and the rather large frame of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Thankfully, Teddy slept soundly at her feet in a conjured Moses basket.

Harry began. "A year ago Professor Dumbledore told me that I was to take private lessons with him, lessons that would help me fight Voldemort. He showed me memories of Tom Riddle in a Pensieve. He wanted me to understand how Tom became Lord Voldemort."

Harry explained Tom's origins, his life in a Muggle orphanage, and his early years at Hogwarts, including the incident with the Chamber of Secrets that saw Hagrid expelled. Finally he came to the memory so carefully hidden by Horace Slughorn.

"Merlin's ghost...to rip apart the fabric of one's soul..." whispered a horrified Dedalus Diggle.

Dora looked over at Remus. His face was impassive but his left hand gripped the edge of his seat so tightly that his knuckles were white. "Are you okay?" she whispered.

He nodded, and then spoke to Harry, "Please continue, Harry."

Dora kept a close eye on her husband as Harry, Ron and Hermione continued to tell the story of their hunt for the remaining Horcruxes during the previous year. He appeared calm and attentive, but as the tale wore on she could see that he was holding his body unnaturally still.

"...Then Neville killed Nagini, and, well, you all know the rest," Harry had finished talking. The entire room was silent.

Finally, Remus said hoarsely, "Thank you, Harry." Then he smiled ruefully. "Actually, I think 'thank you' doesn't even begin to cut it. You three have shown tremendous courage as well as resourcefulness worthy of wizards well beyond your years." Remus' attitude was warm and relaxed, but Dora could still see the tension in his shoulders.

"Well, I think that calls for a drink. Or two," offered Bill, as Fleur began to pass around the Firewhiskey. Once they all had a glass, Bill offered a toast, "To Harry, Ron and Hermione."

Dora joined the chorused "Hear, hear!" and took a small sip from her glass.

Kingsley raised his glass a second time. "To the Order of the Phoenix."

"And to those who were lost," Percy Weasley added quietly.

After this final toast several people stood and began to circulate around the cottage. To Dora's relief Kingsley stood to speak with Harry, Ron and Hermione. She checked to see that Teddy was still sleeping.

"'E ees so cute!" exclaimed Fleur as she peered over Dora's shoulder. "But 'e does not 'ave much 'air yet, no? H'ow can you tell when eet changes ze colours?"

Next to her, Remus stood up suddenly. "If you'll excuse me for a moment. I'm afraid I'm still feeling the effects of last night's full moon. I could use some fresh air." He strode quickly out of the room.

After asking Fleur to keep an eye on Teddy, Dora followed him outside. She found him staring out over the ocean, lost in thought. "Remus?" she asked quietly, "Are you all right?"

It was a moment before Remus could speak. His jaw twitched as he tried to keep his anger in check; she was not surprised when he finally lost the battle. "They were not much more than children! Children! And he sent them out against, against... THAT!" For once in his life, words failed him. He began to pace along the edge of the cliff. "'Don't tell anyone, Harry, except your two best mates,' never mind that they also happen to be children. 'Don't ask for help from any of the Order,' because Merlin knows three frightened teenagers are more than equipped to handle searching for Horcruxes whilst on the run from Death Eaters. If I had known..."

Dora felt her heart sink. "You would have gone with them," she said quietly.

"Yes! No." He finally stopped pacing and looked at her. "You know that I would not trade those months with you and Teddy for anything in the world. But what those three went through, what he asked them to do...alone..."

She cupped his cheek with her hand, looking intently into his eyes. "But they did it."

She could see his anger deflate. "Yes," he admitted with a sigh, running his hand tiredly over his jaw. "They did it."

Suddenly they could hear Teddy's cry coming from the cottage. Dora looked up to see Fleur holding her son in the doorway, bouncing him lightly in her arms.

"He's hungry. I should..." She looked at Remus doubtfully.

"Go. I'll be all right." Dora nodded and turned towards the house. Remus caught her arm before she could leave "I love you, Nymphadora."

She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Don't call me Nymphadora, Remus," she said as she kissed him and then went to tend to their son.

-------

Remus stood looking out at the sea for a long time. For a most of his life his feelings towards Albus Dumbledore had bordered on hero-worship. Dumbledore was the man who had given him the chance to lead a normal life as a member of the wizarding community. If not for the older wizard's efforts on his behalf, he had no doubt that he would be dead now, or worse yet, feral. He owed Dumbledore his life, his son, everything. And even if he had come to realize in the last few years that Dumbledore was indeed fallible, that he did not necessarily have all of life's answers, Remus still regarded him with the deepest respect and trust.

Now he was confronted with the unavoidable fact that Dumbledore had known, almost from the beginning, that Harry would most likely die in his confrontation with Voldemort. And yet he had kept that information from the Order and from those who cared most about the young wizard.

With a sick feeling in his stomach Remus remembered that last year with Sirius at Grimmauld Place. _'My God,'_ he thought, _'what Sirius would have done, had he known.' _Is that why Dumbledore insisted that he remain all but a prisoner in his ancestral home, with virtually no means of communicating with his godson? To prevent Sirius from sussing out Harry's fate? Because, in the end, neither he nor Sirius would have willingly sent James' son to his death in order to save the world.

Dumbledore had manipulated them all, most especially Harry. True, he had arranged it so that Harry would have a chance to avoid his fate. Remus snorted. Of course, he had to be so bloody secretive about it that Harry only figured out the significance of the Hallows at the last minute.

'_But they did it,'_ Dora had said. Yes, in the end Harry had survived and Voldemort was dead. The long nightmare was over. But Remus could not bring himself to accept that their happy ending justified Dumbledore's manipulations.

Finally, Remus gave up trying to sort through his troubled thoughts. He let out a long breath and headed back to the cottage where his wife and son were waiting for him.

As he reached the front door he was distracted by the glow of burning embers, above which shone the piercingly blue eyes of Aberforth Dumbledore. He stood under the eaves of the cottage, taking a long draw on his pipe. "My brother was the greatest wizard in an age, several ages, perhaps. He was not, however, very good at relating to people. He always held something of himself back."

Remus closed his eyes and sighed. "Aberforth, please."

"He made the mistake once of ignoring a threat in favour of sentimentality and self-interest. He could not allow himself that luxury again. It set him apart from people, even people he cared about. He could never let himself care too much, you see.

"But he loved that boy, of that much I'm certain."

Remus looked at Aberforth a long time. Finally, he nodded and stepped inside the cottage.


	3. Kingsley

May 11, 1998, 9 days after the battle

Kingsley Shacklebolt sipped his Firewhiskey as he wandered into the living room at Shell Cottage. He nodded to Minerva McGonagall and paused to speak with Hestia Jones, all the while keeping up an internal monologue: _'C'mon, King. You've faced Death Eaters and Muggle bureaucrats. How can you be afraid of one, small, pink-haired, Auror? Just go over there and ask her.'_

Finally he made his way to the sofa where Nymphadora Tonks sat nursing her one-month-old son. "Tonks," he said casually, trying to look anywhere but at the child latched on to her breast "So this is the little nipper."

Dora looked up at him and laughed. "Oi, Kingsley! Don't tell me you've never seen boobs before. Have a seat."

He drew himself up to his full height and addressed her in his most authoritative voice, the one that had resulted in his election as Acting Minister of Magic by an emergency session of the Wizengamot not 24 hours earlier. "Really, Auror Lupin, I'm going to have to insist that you treat me with at least a modicum of respect now that I am the new Minister of Magic."

"I'll try to keep that in mind, Minister."

He frowned but his eyes betrayed amusement as he sat down next to her. "I haven't had a chance to talk with Remus yet. How is he recovering from his injuries?"

"As well as can be expected, I reckon. He still gets frustrated that he can't remember anything from the battle. But the tremors in his hand have stopped, and he can use his wand again."

Kingsley smiled warmly. "I'm glad to hear that." Conversation paused as Dora shifted Teddy to her other breast. "Listen, Tonks, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

She shook her head and said, "No."

"You don't even know what I'm going to say, yet."

"Okay, then, say it."

"I need you back in the Auror's office."

"No."

"Tonks, the Ministry is a mess. No one can tell for certain who was sympathetic to Voldemort, who was acting under the Imperius Curse, or who was playing along just to save his neck. Not to mention the problem of hunting down and prosecuting all of the known Death Eaters. I need people around me whom I can trust."

Dora met his gaze determinedly, "Look, Kingsley, I was fired from the Ministry for marrying an undesirable, remember? Besides, I should have eight more months of maternity leave coming. Teddy needs me."

Kingsley sighed and rubbed his hand across his head in frustration. "Tonks, I won't argue that you and Remus have been treated deplorably, and I wouldn't ask if the situation weren't desperate. The truth is that the Auror's office was decimated by the war."

She swallowed and looked down at her son who had fallen asleep. "I can't, Kingsley. I can't leave him again. Not yet."

"I'm not asking you to," he reassured her. "I wouldn't send you on any extended missions. And you wouldn't be working alone. I've asked Harry, Ron and Neville Longbottom to assist me as well."

"Really?"

"They would technically be interns until they pass the required NEWTS to join the Auror program, but yes, they've each agreed to help me track down known Death Eaters. But they lack your experience." He paused, as if considering something. "Would you think about coming back part-time? No field work, just to help us root out the worst of the offenders at the Ministry and put together evidence for the Wizengamot."

She bit her lower lip, mulling it over. "I don't know…"

"Dora, it's all right." Remus was standing in the doorway, apparently having heard most of their conversation. "I can take care of Teddy for a few hours a day while you're at the Ministry." He walked over to the sofa and took her hand. "If you need to go back part-time, we will work it out." She gazed at him seriously for a moment and then, apparently satisfied with what she saw, turned back to Kingsley.

"Who's going to be Head Auror, then?"

Kingsley swallowed. This was going to be the hard part. "Dawlish."

"Dawlish! That git was working for them!"

"We have strong evidence that he was under the Confundus charm the entire time. Dawlish's main concern has always been maintaining law and order. Right now he's brassed off and has as much motivation as anyone to clean up this mess."

Dora looked unconvinced. "Dawlish is a git even when he's not confunded."

"You won't be working for Dawlish, at least not immediately. You'll be working directly under me, supervising Harry and the others and putting together case files" he continued persuasively.

She looked once more at Remus and then nodded her head. "Okay, but only part-time for at least eight months. And I want Fridays off. _And_ I want to be in charge of the investigation of Umbridge," she added with a grim smile.

"Done! Can you come in tomorrow, then?"

Dora looked at him incredulously. "This is what you wanted all along, you prat."

He smiled widely at her. "No, I was telling the truth. I want you back full time as soon as you feel ready. But if I can have you part-time I intend to make the most of it." He stood up to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow." He stood and shook Remus' hand. "Remus, it's good to see you back on your feet again. Goodnight."

'_That could have been worse,' _he thought. She hadn't ripped his lungs out, after all. He had thought long and hard about inviting Tonks back to the Auror Division so soon after the birth of her son, particularly considering the close call both she and Remus had suffered in the final battle. In the end, though, it had come down to necessity. It was vital that the public's faith in the Ministry be restored as soon as possible, and he knew of no better way to do that than to find and punish the remaining Death Eaters. He pushed away his self-doubt. _'You do what you have to do,' he reflected. 'We'll all do whatever it takes to pick up the pieces and rebuild the world.'_


	4. Andromeda II

June 1998

One month after the battle

"Oh, my..." Andromeda pressed a shaking hand to her lips as she stared at the ruin of what had once been her kitchen.

"Merlin…," she heard Dora whisper behind her.

In the dim light filtering through the kitchen door it was apparent that the Death Eaters had taken their frustration out on the house itself when they found its occupants missing. The splintered remains of her kitchen chairs were scattered like kindling around the overturned table, and dishes had been shattered against the countertops.

"Here, let's have some light," said Remus gently. He moved passed Dora into the house to cast a silent _luminos_, lighting the sconces along each wall.

Shortly after Bellatrix had first broken through the wards they had put up on their home, Ted had contacted a Muggle cousin about borrowing a small rental on the coast. When he noticed Rudolphus skulking around the neighborhood he insisted that they split up, and that she, Dora and Remus should move to the coast without him. His voice had haunted her dreams nearly every night since. "_I can still pass as a Muggle, Dromeda, hide out in Manchester or Leeds. It'll be safer for Dora and the baby this way, give them two sets of tracks to try and follow_."

Now Ted was gone and she had returned to the home she had shared with him for almost 25 years to see what damage had been done in their absence. 

Andromeda chafed her hands against her arms, trying to relieve the chill she had felt since entering the house. Across the room she watched Remus right the table and attempt to piece together one of the chairs. After adjusting the sling so that Teddy rested on her back, Dora began sorting through the broken shards on the countertop. She moved around the kitchen numbly, aware that she should help but unable to focus on what needed to be done. Eventually she wandered down the hall and into the living room. 

The crunch of broken glass drew her attention to a framed photograph, broken, beneath her foot. Andromeda bent down to retrieve it and brushed tenderly at the image of a giggling girl with bright pink pigtails being chased around a tree by her father. She crossed the room to the fireplace and carefully placed the picture on the mantle. 

"_I know it's not as grand as what you're used to Dromeda, but it's a tight little house, with a pond in the garden and an oak tree large enough for a swing_…" _he caressed the growing bulge under her robes._ "_plenty of room for the little one here to run around_."

"_It's perfect._"

An arrangement of flowers on the mantle had somehow escaped the attention of the Death Eaters. She fingered the dried rose petals. 

"_Dromeda_, _come look_."

"_Ted! Ted what are you doing? Look at what? I can't see a thing with your hands over my eyes!" She moved awkwardly with the weight of the child that seemed to be in no hurry to greet the world, holding Ted's hand tightly as he led her carefully down the kitchen steps and into the garden. She was temporarily blinded by the sun as he removed his hands and then gasped in delight. The entire back wall of the house had been planted with rose bushes, in a rainbow of colors._

_She burst into tears._

"_Aw, Dromeda, don't cry." He smiled as he pulled her into his arms._

Turning back towards the room she noticed Ted's old chair, the one she had always been after him to replace, or at least allow her to reupholster. "_I like it the way it is," _he would say_, "nicely broken in. Just like me_." The chair was turned over on its side now, the paisley fabric ripped and torn beyond repair. 

'_Well_,' she thought, '_at least we'll finally be rid of that old chair_.' She felt her heart beat once, twice. Slowly her knees gave way and she slid down to the floor, weeping. She barey registered Dora's presense until she felt herself gathered into her daughter's arms. Time had no meaning as all of the grief and fear of the last year came pouring out. 

Finally, after what felt like hours but must only have been a few moments, she became aware of Teddy, fussing, pressed awkwardly between them in his sling. Andromeda released the took a few deep, shuddering breaths and released the tight hold she had on her daughter and grandson. 

Remus knelt in front of them, offering his hand to help her stand. "Andromeda," he said gently, "why don't you take Teddy back to the cottage. Dora and I can clean up this mess." 

"No," she said, straightening her shoulders and gaining some strength back into her voice. "No, I'll be fine, thank you, Remus. This," she continued, waving at the destruction around her, "this can all be fixed. This is my home—our home," she stressed, "and I'll not be run out of it again." Her eyes took in the damaged room, lingering on Ted's chair and finally settling on Teddy once again nestled securely on Dora's back. "First thing is to find a safe place for Teddy. Perhaps one of the bedrooms. Dora, would you mind lending me a hand?" she asked, her voice not quite as steady as she willed it.

"Sure, Mum," Dora agreed quietly.

They started on Dora's childhood room. Fortunately the vandalism to the bedrooms was not as extensive as it had been in the living areas of the house. Clothes had been strewn about and some furniture was overturned, but nothing appeared to have been irreparably damaged. Dora cleared a spot along one wall under her favorite Weird Sister's poster and conjured a cot for Teddy. "There you go love, nice and comfy," she cooed.

Satisfied that her grandson was taken care of, Andromeda turned back to straightening the room. "Dora, could you help me with this dressing table...Dora? What is it?" Her daughter stood staring down at the cot, a slow grin spreading across her face.

"Mum! He smiled! Teddy smiled! Remus, come quick!"

Remus ran into the room, wand drawn and concern written on his face. "What? What is it?"

"Teddy just smiled his first smile, didn't you, love," Dora said, not taking her eyes off of her son. "It was the Weird Sisters poster, I'm sure of it." She looked smugly at her husband. "He's obviously inherited his mum's excellent taste in music."

Remus and Andromeda both moved across the room towards the cot, where Teddy laid sucking on his toes and gurgling happily, oblivious to the commotion he had caused. His hair had turned the exact shade of purple as Myron Wagtail's dragonhide jacket on the poster above. "Oh great Merlin, two of them," groaned Remus, but his crooked grin betrayed his amusement. He put his arm around Dora and added, "I suppose we shall have to learn to live with that wretched noise she calls music, Andromeda."

Andromeda watched them standing over Teddy's crib, fawning proudly over their son. The significance of her son-in-law's effort to include her in this family moment had not escaped her. Some of the warmth returned to her body as she imagined the years ahead, the house filled once again with the laughter of a child. And although it was tinged with regret that Ted wouldn't get to watch his namesake grow up, she finally felt ready to come home.


	5. Dora

June 12, 1998, six weeks after the battle

_She rushes through the halls of Hogwarts, trying in vain to see through the acrid smoke. All around her she hears the sounds of battle — terrified screams and angry curses, explosions, the rumble of something collapsing within the castle walls. If she looks carefully at the rubble she can see bodies, impossibly young. But she keeps moving, keeps searching. She has to find ... what? She is searching for something she can't remember but is desperate to find. Suddenly, she can hear the cries of an infant. Teddy? she thinks. But Teddy isn't supposed to be here. He is safe at home, with her Mum. "Teddy!" she shouts. The crying gets louder; it is coming from all directions. Panicking, she picks up her pace, racing through the corridors, calling for her son ... All at once the crying stops. She stops as well, breathing hard, listening for any sound of her son. But all she hears is the high-pitched cackle of her Aunt Bellatrix._

"TEDDY!" Nymphadora Tonks bolted upright, her heart pounding and her breath coming in quick gasps. _Where was Teddy? _

"Dora?" Remus sat up as well, his voice hoarse from sleep but his eyes alert and concerned. "Are you all right? It was just a dream." His hand sought her back, rubbing small circles against the smooth skin under her t-shirt.

Dora shook her head and pulled away, trying hard not to give into the panic her dream had produced. The nightmares had started soon after they moved back into her childhood home. Finding constant reminders of her father around the house coupled with the stress of going back to work at the Ministry had left her emotionally drained. Stumbling out of bed, she hurried across the bedroom to the cot that stood against the opposite wall. She let out a shuddering breath when she found Teddy sleeping peacefully, one chubby fist pressed tightly against pursed lips. Dora stared at her son and brushed on finger gently against his cheek, trying to convince herself that he was real.

She heard Remus leave the bed and pad quietly across the room. One arm wrapped around her waist and tucked her tightly against his body. "Come back to bed," he coaxed as he placed a kiss against her temple. They stood together for a few more minutes watching their son, until finally Dora allowed Remus to lead her back to bed. She settled against his chest, her head nestled under his chin.

"Tell me," he whispered.

"It was awful, you know? They were just children, but the Death Eaters didn't care. They _wanted _to hurt them." It was the first time she had spoken to him of the battle, and she found herself trembling with emotion. "And I couldn't find you, and then Bellatrix appeared..." Her voice broke.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice rough with emotion. She wasn't exactly sure what he was apologizing for — leaving her and Teddy with Andromeda to go fight, the horror she had witnessed during the battle, or his own inability to remember that night — knowing Remus, it was probably a bit of everything. She shook her head, forgiving him and absolving him all at once.

"'s not your fault."

"I know," he sighed dramatically. "But I wouldn't be the man you married if I didn't attempt to play the noble martyr at least once in a while."

"Prat," she replied with a small smile, wiping her tears against his nightshirt.

"Teddy's safe," he told her seriously. "We're all safe. It's over."

"Is it?" she responded quietly. "Colin Creevey's mum came into the Ministry today, wanting to know when we were going to find his killer." She felt him take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to control his own emotions.

"I hear them almost every night, the children, crying, screaming. That's all they were, really, children asked to fight a war. And it tears me up inside that I couldn't save more of them. Then their crying turns into Teddy's crying, and I think about how close we came to leaving him alone." She paused. "I don't know how I'm supposed to live with this, Remus." She buried her face in his nightshirt again, trying to stem the flow of tears.

It took him a moment to answer, and when he did his voice had grown hoarse. "When James and Lily died, when it looked as though Sirius had betrayed them … my whole world fell apart. One headline in the Daily Prophet and I lost … everything. It felt like the world was celebrating the deaths of my four best friends. For twelve years I lived in a fog - until Dumbledore gave my life purpose again: the chance to teach at Hogwarts, the chance to help James' son."

She looked up at him, waiting for him to continue. He smiled his familiar half-smile. "That's what led me to you."

"Now," he swallowed, "now I have so much more to lose that I find myself wavering between sheer joy and absolute terror. I'm sorry I can't remember that night. Lying here right now I can't even begin to justify leaving you and Teddy, except to say that I was more terrified of losing you than of having you lose me."

She looked down, toying with a loose thread on his shirt. "I never should have left him."

"Perhaps. But we're here, Dora, we made it out the other side. And I am so deeply grateful for that." She leaned in as he gave her a lingering kiss.

"Now," he added, "Teddy will be awake in a little more than an hour, so unless you're planning to leave our bed tonight to go hunt Death Eaters, I think you should try to get some rest." With one arm he reached over and pulled the quilt back up to cover them both. She closed her eyes and sought comfort in the muffled sound of his heartbeat. _'Teddy's safe. We're all safe. It's over.'_ She repeated the mantra to herself in time with the soft rise and fall of his chest until she drifted to sleep.


	6. Remus

October 1998, six months after the battle

"...and in the middle of the interview her daughter started crying in the back room. Of course my milk let down, although I didn't know it at the time, only that Ron's ears started to turn bright red. Poor bloke couldn't look me in the eye for the rest of the week."

Remus chuckled, then shared a knowing smile with Kingsley. He imagined that they both could empathize with the teenage wizard's predicament a bit more closely than could his wife.

Across the table Andromeda frowned at her daughter. "Really, Dora, at the dinner table?"

"No, actually, we were in her living room at the time. C'mon, Mum, it's perfectly natural. Anyway, Ron's a good lad. He'll make a fine Auror once he gets past his Newts. And Harry's a natural, of course. Only I'm not sure about Neville."

Kingsley looked surprised. "His reports have been excellent, and he certainly works as hard as anyone in the department."

Dora shook her head. "I never thought I'd see someone as bad at stealth and tracking as I was. Now I know how Mad-Eye must've felt when he was training me. I just don't think his heart is in it. I'd lay even money that he'll walk away from it all once the Lestrange brothers go on trial."

Remus nodded. "Neville always seemed most at ease in the greenhouses with Pomona. It is difficult to imagine him chasing down dark wizards for the rest of his life. He needs the warmth of sunlight on his face and the green of growing things around him more than most, I think."

"Then he is a wise young man." With a flick of her wand, Andromeda sent the dinner dishes towards the kitchen.

Kingsley leaned back in his seat and stretched his long frame. "That was a wonderful dinner, Andromeda, thank you. It's not often I have time for a home-cooked meal these days."

"How are things at the Ministry, Kingsley?" Andromeda asked as she poured the tea.

"We're starting to see some light at the end of the tunnel. Percy Weasley has been a godsend; that boy is a born administrator. The most vocal of Voldemort's supporters have been rooted out of key positions, and though there may be a few sympathizers left in the Ministry, they are prudently keeping their opinions to themselves. In the meantime, the legislation on restitution for Muggleborn wizards has passed, and we've got some strong Muggle protection legislation in the works, thanks to Arthur Weasley." He turned his attention to Remus. "Arthur is running for the Wizengamot, did you know?"

Remus nodded approvingly. "Good for him. The Wizengamot could certainly use more wizards like Arthur."

Kingsley looked at him thoughtfully. "I would like to take you on at the Ministry, Remus, but some of these anti-werewolf laws are going to require a long time to overturn."

The teapot Andromeda had been levitating dropped onto the table with an audible thud. "...that bloody Umbridge cow," she muttered under her breath. Dora's lips twitched as she fought back a smile. Remus raised an eyebrow, amused and touched by his mother-in-law's sentiments.

Kingsley continued, "Greyback didn't help matters with his attacks during the war; resentment and fear are still fairly strong—"

Remus interrupted, staring into his teacup. "I appreciate the sentiment, Kingsley, but prejudice against werewolves was prevalent long before Voldemort appeared. There were good reasons that Dumbledore and my parents kept my condition hidden when I began attending Hogwarts." He shrugged in resignation. "I'm not sure things are ever going to change." He felt rather than saw Dora's scowl; he had had this same discussion with her many times.

"Fortunately, as Minister of Magic I have certain privileges." Kingsley resumed as if Remus hadn't interrupted. "I can't hire you as a Ministry employee, but I can arrange for you to be hired as a consultant."

"Consultant?"

Kingsley leaned forward, eager to explain. "At this point we've rounded up most of Greyback's pack. The worst of the offenders, the truly vicious ferals who've shown no remorse, have been sent to Azkaban under a life sentence. The question remains, however, as to what to do about the remaining werewolves—those who've been living on the edge of society, stealing to survive because they had no choice."

"I'm still not sure what I can do."

"Your part in the war is becoming known, and sentiment _is_ changing, albeit slowly. I need you to be the visible face of werewolves in the wizarding community."

Remus felt the blood drain from his face at Kingsley's suggestion.

"Hear me out, Remus, please. This is more than just a public relations ploy. As it stands now, there is no legal restriction on hiring werewolves in the private sector. But the law does allow for blatant discrimination and, as you well know, such discrimination has been encouraged by the Ministry until recently.

"We need someone to organize the efforts to retrain the disenfranchised werewolves, especially the young ones, and find people willing to hire them. You're a known werewolf but also a member of the Order of the Phoenix—a fact that carries no small weight now that our efforts during the war are known. If there's anyone who can reach out to both communities, it is you."

Remus looked over at Dora. Her face was impassive, but he could see the hope shining in her eyes. He didn't know quite how to feel about Kingsley's offer. One the one hand it was the opportunity to make a real difference in the lives of others like himself; on the other, it meant embracing his identity as a werewolf to an extent with which he had never been comfortable. Was he really ready to become a public figure for werewolf rights, when his entire life he had striven to hide his condition and not let it define him?

"I need some time," he said, finally.

"I understand. Think it over, talk to Tonks here." Remus smiled ruefully, knowing full well what his wife would say.

Kingsley continued, "We have a chance now to make a real difference in the Wizarding community, Remus, to create a society that is fair and just for all its members, not just the purebloods."

-----

Remus stood gazing out the window at the street below, his hands shoved deeply into his pockets. The waning moon had set a half-hour or so before sunset, as they were sitting down to dinner with Kingsley. He knew the moment its crescent had disappeared below the horizon, had felt the wolf recede with it. This was always the most precious time of the month to him, the days immediately before the new moon when its influence was least and the wolf was weakest. When he could look out on the night and merely enjoy the stars as any other man would.

"Are you going to get ready for bed?" Dora asked from across the bedroom. He smiled at her reflection in the window. She had avoided mentioning Kingsley's offer all evening, and he was grateful for that. His decision was inevitable, really. He could never leave the other werewolves to their fate, not when it was within his ability to do something to help. Still, he appreciated the space she had given him to think it through.

"What will we do about Teddy?" She appeared to be puzzled for a moment by his non-sequitur, then her face broke into a wide grin and she flew across the room towards him. Not a good idea when one was Nymphadora Tonks Lupin, but luckily he was there to catch her.

"My schedule is still flexible, King said you can work from home a good bit of the time, and Mum has already offered to watch him when we both need to work," she let out in a rush.

"Already have it all figured out, have you?" he asked wryly.

She grinned cheekily. "Of course, I knew you couldn't say no."

He brushed a lock of pink hair back from her eyes and leaned in for a soft kiss. She hummed contentedly as he trailed kisses from the corner of her mouth to her jaw, nuzzling her neck before working his way back up to her ear to whisper, "Now, did you say something about getting ready for bed?"

-----

Later that night as he lay wrapped around her body, listening to Dora's soft breathing, Remus thought about what Kingsley had said. The future was never something to which he had given much thought , except to do what he could to assure that those he loved –Dora, Teddy and Harry –had one. He had gone to war to protect his son's future; once it was over he had wrapped his family around him like a cocoon, content to stay at home and live in the moment, revelling in his wife and son and rarely venturing out of the house except to visit Harry at Grimmauld Place. Now he could feel himself waking up as if from a dream. It was time to emerge from hiding and help create the future that Kingsley and the others had envisioned. It was time to start living at last.

FINIS

_And, as I'm an honest Puck, If we have unearned luck _

_Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, We will make amends ere long;_

_Else the Puck a liar call: So, good night unto you all._

_Give me your hands, if we be friends,_

_And Robin shall restore amends._

William Shakespeare, _A Midsummer Night's Dream_

**aftermath **(n.) The exuberant autumn growth of grass that comes in after the first crop has been taken; the grass that grows after the harvest.


End file.
